


It Started with A Cream Bun (Remix of Twice As Sweet As Sugar)

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Destiny, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Mild Language, POV Outsider, Prophecy, Sexual Content, Short & Sweet, Sweet Arthur, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-08 02:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14684088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: Henry, Merlin’s pervy purple potted plant, has an interesting vantage point. He sees and hears much more than he ever expected. Oh, if plants could talk…





	It Started with A Cream Bun (Remix of Twice As Sweet As Sugar)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polomonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Twice As Sweet As Sugar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13509330) by [Polomonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey). 



> I had every intention of writing another perspective on one of Polo's tearjerkers; this was the reason I wanted to remix one of her fics. Plans, however, don't always pan out, do they?
> 
> When I read “Twice as Sweet As Sugar” I knew immediately what I wanted to do, and it had NOTHING at all to do with writing one word of angst. Nevertheless, it was such a joy writing every word of this. I hope you have as much fun reading as I did writing. 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful, amazing, brilliant beta, Malu, who made a suggestion that completely transformed this fic from what I thought was a pretty good fic into something really really fun and interesting.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Henry sighed exasperatedly as he looked around the small office that was barely large enough for a desk. Could this day be any less exciting? Henry thought not as he redirected his attention to the back of his owner’s head. 

If only his stems could somehow turn themselves into arms Henry could then throw something at it to interrupt the monotony of this less than stellar day.

He imagined himself catapulting the small ball that was on the threadbare chair beside him and aiming it at those large ears. _That_ would be fun… a concept the young, _up and coming future of the company_ , who was currently sat at his computer desk, obviously had no inkling of.

It was a travesty.

Weren’t twenty-somethings meant to be adventurous and fun, ignoring and thwarting authority at every turn? Apparently, this one hadn’t got the memo. In fact, Henry was one-hundred percent positive that if one were to look up the word _boring_ online, they would find the name MERLIN EMRYS in bold letters.

The definer of all things unexciting, also known as the newbie graphic designer for Camelot Ltd., continued to stare at the menagerie of pictures on the large screen. Every few seconds he would sigh, shake his head, mutter beneath his breath, or drum his fingers on his desk in a grating staccato.

He had been at this diabolical unending cycle for the whole of the afternoon.

Henry was not amused. Not one iota.

He missed Gwen. _She_ was caring, fun, lovely, and the people who came through _her_ office on a daily basis were filled to the brim with interesting stories and gossip that had kept Henry’s little _Schlumbergera bridgessii_ -self absorbed for hours.

Take Tristan, the bloke whose wife had died in his arms. His recounting to Gwen of her last words to him: “ _Hold Me,_ ” still, to this day, brought a tear to Henry’s areoles. And then there was the little old wrinkled lady who had come into Gwen’s office sobbing because her son had been unjustly killed because he did magic.

Henry had his doubts about that story because he had never seen evidence that magic existed, but he fervently hoped it did because he knew a couple of people who could use it. One of them just so happened to be his current owner (he used the qualifier _current_ because Henry never stayed at one place for very long).

When Henry had been a mere scrawny thing, hoping to grow into the handsome plant he was now, he had overheard a rather curious conversation between an old man called Kilgharrah and a scary lady called Nimueh (Henry had loathed her because she’d once tried to drown him and would have succeeded had it not been for his owner rescuing him).

Much of what had been shared that day had been too complicated for Henry to understand, but one part that he had heard clearly was that one day in the not-too-distant future a boy called Merlin would enter the son of his owner’s life and the two were destined to do great things, and that if they failed to join together a disaster beyond everyone’s wildest imagination would occur (Henry wondered if he had mixed that bit up with lyrics from _Phantom of the Opera_ , but, regardless, if Arthur and Merlin did not get together, it was foretold that bad things would happen).

Or so that is what the prickly man of riddles had said.

So yes, a little magic would not be remiss. Those two boys needed all the help they could get.

But Henry didn’t want to think about that at the moment. Hadn’t he been thinking about the glory days with Gwen?

Yes, he had. She had been a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, those days had come to a rather unfortunate end a week earlier when Gwen had decided that her sad friend, Merlin (Henry’s first thought at hearing the name was… what kind of name was that?) needed a hard-to-kill plant to care for. Gwen had carried Henry’s silently protesting self to another office that was nowhere near as aesthetically pleasing as the one he had come from. Where he had previously been surrounded with other plants and pretty pictures of friends and family of Gwen, he found himself in the midst of drudgery.

Not only were the walls in his new owner's office stark white with ugly fluorescent lights blaring down at him (they would no doubt scorch his lovely stems and stunt any future flower growth), but there was a piece of ugly art that stared at Henry, mocking him. It was hideous.

But, as sorrowful a place as this office and its owner were, Henry had been then and still was of the opinion that he needed to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt. He had heard, after all, that this Merlin person was a highly sought after recruit and that he was going to bring Camelot Ltd. a wealth of business. That was rather difficult to believe, but maybe Mister Boring just hadn’t had the time to decorate his office yet, and probably he would end up being every bit as interesting as Gwen.

And his name was _Merlin_ , the same as the one he’d heard that barmy old man mention. Henry couldn’t see how a working-class, gangly, serious boy could have anything to do with bringing about great things with someone as wealthy and connected as Arthur Pendragon, but his curiosity was piqued.

That being said, there was no way Merlin could ever be anywhere near as interesting as Gwen. No matter how much Henry wanted it to be otherwise, he knew it to be but a dream. Some people were meant to be nurturing and others weren’t. That was just the way of it.

Nevertheless, Henry would not give up on his current owner. He had been surprised before.

His first owner had been a gruff man who had treated his family and employees deplorably to their faces, yet he had doted on his plant and conversed with him about how sad and alone he felt. 

Henry’s second owner (Arthur, who had been the son of his first owner) had been almost as gruff as his father during the work-day, but when not working, his heart of gold had been evident, even if he hadn’t paid his plant much attention.

So, yes, there was hope. Always hope.

However, Henry’s well of optimism wasn’t infinite, and seven days of boring phone calls that never ended in tears, choice words, or temper tantrums—and a handful of visitors who were almost as mundane as Merlin—had Henry fervently wishing to be outdoors in the pouring rain. Anywhere would be preferable to here.

Someone spoke (something about a cream bun?) and interrupted the quietude of the room, startling both Merlin and Henry.

Merlin reacted by violently swinging his arm towards the desk, which in turn had Henry shuddering and bracing himself when that arm came directly at him. It knocked him off the desk and had him spiraling towards the floor at a much too high rate of speed. Henry’s brief life passed before him. He wasn’t ready to go quite yet.

Fortunately, clumsy as he was, Merlin had quick reflexes and was able to stop the frightening descent before any damage was done. Henry was safe, but it had been a close call and Henry again found himself wishing he were back in Gwen’s office, away from these perilous lands.

But all thought momentarily fled Henry’s mind when he spotted the reason he had almost met his untimely end: a familiar face pushing a tea trolley into his newest owner’s office.

Henry saw time stop for a brief moment. 

Arthur Pendragon was in Merlin’s office. 

Not that this meant anything, but the prophecy he’d overheard...

What was Arthur doing here? Hadn’t his father (Henry’s first owner) sued Camelot Ltd. last year? And wasn’t Uther Pendragon’s son in line to succeed him at the helm of Pendragon Limited when he retired?

Henry was perplexed. Overjoyed, yes, but confused. Obviously, he was missing something, because Merlin and Arthur had parted on the worst of terms.

But here they were, talking cordially, as if Merlin hadn’t nearly lost his dream job because of Arthur’s father. Henry found himself indignant on Merlin’s behest. How dare this man barge into his office! It was a travesty.

Yet it was glorious.

Henry didn’t know why—that man had probably been out of his mind the day he had made that silly prophecy—but Henry was a romantic. He wanted to believe it. He had no idea what it would mean if the prophecy was in fact true, but at this point all he cared about was seeing it through and hoping these two completely-opposite-in-every-way people ended up together. It was akin to wanting water and petrol to join, but, well, Henry liked to live dangerously, didn’t he? 

His current owner was about as clumsy as they came and would probably kill Henry in some stupid way. What did Henry have to lose by wanting the impossible to happen?

Henry was well on the way to working himself into a frenzy with all of these jumbled thoughts when he again nearly found himself on the floor. Did Merlin have to continually prove how much of an idiot he was? But Henry didn’t have long to think about that because Arthur’s expression changed and he seemed sad. 

Henry had never seen the young Pendragon in such a state. No matter his thoughts about the Pendragons, Henry didn’t like that look on Arthur one bit. So when Arthur and Merlin began flirting with each other, Henry was pleased. Shocked and curious as to why, but pleased, nonetheless.

Wait, they were flirting? Well, Henry doubted Merlin knew what he was doing—the young novice in all things was, after all, clueless about having fun—but there was no doubt that Arthur was well aware of what he was up to. He was turning on the charm, his smile and chipper disposition brightening the office (which, Henry had to admit, wasn’t at all difficult).

This could get interesting. Henry’s stems perked up. Just maybe this office was about to finally see some action. And that would also mean Kilgharrah’s words would maybe come true.

Henry was invested in this story now and wanted to see how it ended. Would they live happily ever after?

Well, a plant could dream, right? It had been months since he had seen any real action. Gwen and her beau shared the occasional kiss, and Lancelot certainly knew how to turn on the charm, but anything more the two got up to hadn’t been in Henry’s presence, and he missed the almost daily sexual escapades that he’d seen in his first and second owners’ offices.

Uther Pendragon had been a widower for more than twenty years, but that didn’t mean he went without companionship. He and his personal assistant, Catrina, had been a couple for over ten years, and she was his companion on all business trips.

Then there was Arthur, who had entertained more than his fair share of young men day and night—Elyan being the one Henry remembered the most because he had watered and fed Henry on occasion (Elyan was also extremely handsome; his eyes were a thing of beauty, and when he called out Arthur’s name and moaned his release, Henry had wondered if there was a way for plants to orgasm).

Those had been fun and exciting times, but they had unexpectedly come to a screeching halt one day when Gwen had come in and been cross with Arthur—Henry had no idea what they’d been arguing about—but the end result had been that Arthur gave Henry to Gwen.

Henry had not been pleased.

It was infuriating that he could be handed off like something no one cared about, but that was the life of a plant, wasn’t it?

And really, after sulking for a day or two, Henry had decided that life with Gwen wasn’t bad. She had watered him every day—probably even too much, which had caused him to occasionally worry that she was overdoing it and he might meet his end sooner rather than later—but he had grown by leaps and bounds under her matronly care.

Of course, all good things must end.

Now he was stuck with Merlin.

It was a miracle Merlin hadn’t killed him, what with his nearly dropping him more than a few times, and his forgetting that even a cactus needs watering at some point.

Henry was getting himself riled up again. He needed to calm down, so he took a few deep breaths and refocused his attention on Merlin and Arthur, wondering what the two could possibly still be talking about. They were about as different from one another as day and night.

“I like Italian,” Arthur said, that familiar beautiful smile of his working its charm as he placed an éclair on Merlin's desk.

Henry gulped. What had he missed whilst reminiscing about the past? Quite a lot from the look of things, but alas, he wouldn’t find out because Arthur left. _No, come back,_ Henry wanted to say. 

It was utterly unfair that plants were unable to speak.

But, at least Merlin seemed happy now. In fact, he looked positively radiant as he reached a hand out and gave his lovely plant (perhaps it was narcissistic to think of one’s self as such, but Henry had never claimed to be anything other) a gentle pat (had the idiot really just touched him? Henry bristled but felt even more smug than before when Merlin made a face as if he were in pain; it served him right!) before returning his attention to what he had been doing before Arthur had come in.

Merlin seemed to get a second wind and, within a few minutes, the various images before him on the computer screen were in some sort of order that seemed to please him. He ate the last of the éclair before he mumbled something about Gwen being right about him, and that maybe his days of going to bed alone were about to end.

Really? Henry wished he had the ability to laugh. A few minutes with Arthur and Merlin was thinking about getting into his pants? Sheesh. What happened to proper courting? Or the idea of going on three dates before you let someone have sex with you? Oh, who was he kidding? No one waited these days. Or probably some did, but no one Henry had been around.

But all the better for his entertainment because it was Friday, and Merlin had told Gwen (only after she had got on to him about neglecting his plant that she had so generously gifted him) that he was going to take Henry home with him to make sure it got enough water and light over the weekend.

Henry preened at the thought, even if he was most definitely not an _it_. He was a _he_ thank you very much, and he would appreciate it if others addressed him as such.

Again, Henry reminded himself that he needed to focus on the positive...

It seemed as though the previous six nights, ones filled with blinding silence and deafening darkness (while darkness was good for his future blooming prospects, he was somewhat scared of it) were about to be replaced with a night filled with sex. Perhaps not, but Henry was hedging his bets on yes.

Merlin stood, gathered his belongings, and left Henry alone in the dark.

 _Erm, wait_! Henry wanted to yell. _You forgot me_!

But thankfully he hadn’t been forgotten, because several hours later (the sun had set and the stars were now twinkling in the moonlight) he was picked up and taken to Merlin’s car and set on the backseat. Merlin drove somewhere and left Henry alone again. 

There was all matter of noise—it was London on a Friday night, after all—but he was getting bored… and somewhat cold. He was also parched. Sometimes he despaired and wondered why he couldn’t have been born a bird, cat, dog, or anything other than a boring plant.

The sound of keys. And voices. Then the door opened.

Two doors.

Henry smiled when he heard Arthur’s voice.

Things were looking up.

“You didn’t tell your sister who you were with, did you?” Merlin asked as he turned on the motor and threw his jacket into the back seat. It fell on top of Henry.

Damn. Henry hated it when that happened. He wasn’t a damned coat hanger.

“Yeah, actually I did. She laughed and said she hoped we ended up falling madly in love and getting married. Mind, I think she only wants to stick it to our father for his years of not being there for her, and she knows how much you loathe him.” Arthur then uncovered Henry and set Merlin’s jacket atop his own. “Your plant looks a little parched. You should take better care of…erm, do you call him Henry or have you changed his name? Whichever, Gwen misses her plant and I wouldn’t be surprised if she came and took it back.”

If he could have, Henry would have purred. Arthur cared.

Yes, Arthur was a keeper. Henry still didn’t know the story about why Arthur had been pushing a tea trolley, and why he was all of a sudden friendly with a foe of his father’s company, but at this point he couldn’t have cared less. He wanted Arthur to wine and dine his owner so they would end up together and at long last there would be someone who would treat him right and not throw jackets on him.

And the story he had overheard would come true.

Maybe magic did exist, after all.

Returning his attention to the two before him, Henry was feeling quite smug. Being sat in the middle, he had a perfect view when their hands joined together. _Aw_ , Henry thought. Arthur looked over at Merlin, whose eyes were focused on the road. It was a look Henry wished someone would give him.

But honestly, that wasn’t ever going to happen.

“Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me, Arthur. I’m not usually so bold as to ask someone out in such a manner, but since we kind of already knew each other I thought it was okay. I hope I wasn’t too forward.”

Henry waited with bated breath for Arthur’s response and was heartened when Arthur said he didn’t think Merlin had been forward at all, and that if Merlin hadn’t asked him to dinner, he would have asked Merlin.

Was that a blush creeping up Arthur’s face? Henry was rather taken aback. This young Pendragon was nothing like his father.

Merlin let out a small giggle, but then he looked over at Arthur (thank the gods they were stopped at a light) and frowned. “I still can’t believe your father fired you. And all because you refused to take part in the lawsuit against Camelot Ltd. You probably gave up a cushy lifestyle defending us.” Merlin might have let some bitterness through. Henry doubted Arthur would recognise it for what it was, but Henry had been around Merlin long enough to know.

Arthur snorted. “Yes, I had a _cushy_ job as you say, and made more money than I knew what to do with, but neither was worth sacrificing my morality for. My father was wrong to sue Camelot Ltd. Being fired was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Now I can pursue this baking thing. Not sure anything will come of it, but we’ll see. Besides, I’m not exactly destitute. My mother made sure there would always be something for me.”

Henry was happy to hear this. He hadn’t much cared for the senior Pendragon, but he quite liked the younger version (especially since Arthur now seemed to take more notice of him) and didn’t like to think of him having to struggle… like Merlin had to, which wasn’t a pleasant thought. 

Henry knew from conversations he’d overheard that Merlin had next to nothing. He helped his mother out with the little that he did have.

Maybe this would work out and Arthur and Merlin could end up together. Henry hoped so. He liked these two as a couple. They looked as if they belonged with each other.

Yes, Henry would admit to it. He was a hopeless romantic.

And, if the two ended up saving the world or something like that, it would be an added bonus.

Sometime later the car stopped and Merlin turned the motor off. Henry briefly wondered if he’d be forgotten and left all alone in the car overnight, but Arthur opened the door and grabbed him as Merlin opened the other door and grabbed their jackets. Henry enjoyed the gentle breeze as it ruffled his areoles. It seemed that Merlin got cold easily, so he kept his office rather toasty, which was great for Merlin, but not so much so for Henry, who preferred a steady draft and humidity. He was, after all, a plant.

Once inside, Henry was set on a table and Merlin and Arthur went off into another room. They were gone for some time, leaving Henry bored and sad. He hated being alone.

He’d once heard Arthur speaking to his father about abandonment issues. Henry had thought the Pendragon heir was being overly dramatic at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps there was something to this. Henry had been passed around, and while that was par for the course for plants, or so he thought, it didn’t make it easy, especially when you were taken from a fellow plant you liked.

Mithian had been his first friend, and she had been lovely. She wasn’t a cactus like him—she was a Field Rose. Unfortunately, it seemed that she had been growing too fast, so she was planted outside Uther Pendragon’s home. As much as Henry had been happy for her to be outdoors, he missed her desperately.

Then there had been Cara; she was a Meadowsweet who had given off the most magnificent fragrance Henry had ever smelled. She had lasted a few weeks, but she too had soon disappeared.

It was a constant game of musical chairs for plants.

Footsteps. Henry focused his attention towards the doorway where he’d seen Merlin and Arthur go through earlier, and sure enough, Arthur entered and walked towards him, a glass of what looked like water in his hand.

Henry got excited. Maybe Arthur was going to drink it, but Henry hoped that wouldn’t be the case. He was so very thirsty; his stems were drab today. He needed water. _Feed me_! he thought.

Water flowed over him and ran down the stems until it soaked into the dirt. It was the best feeling ever.

“There you go, little plant. Do you feel better now? Poor thing, you were probably parched.” Arthur turned him around and smiled.

 _You have no idea_ , Henry thought as he basked in the afterglow of being watered.

Arthur’s mobile dinged. He retrieved it and smiled as he looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, Merlin, Morgana just called and cancelled on me, so I can stay. Unless you don’t want me to, that is,” he added as he turned back toward Henry. He looked somewhat unsure of himself, but then that frown turned into a grin when Merlin walked into the room and grinned mischievously.

Henry knew what both of those looks meant. Arthur and Merlin thought they were about to _get some_.

Henry fervently hoped so.

Oh yes, Henry was about to be entertained.

“Yeah, ‘course I want you to stay,” was Merlin’s coy response, looking and sounding far too innocent for the likes of Uther Pendragon’s son, but Henry wasn’t picky. He loved him some good boy on boy action—they were so much more entertaining and aesthetically pleasing than Uther and Catrina or Arthur and his lovely ladies. 

Memories of Elyan moaning as Arthur deep-throated him surfaced. Henry fervently hoped that or something similar would be on the sexual agenda for Arthur and Merlin.

Rejuvenated by the water and horny thoughts (yes, even plants have those thoughts), Henry perked up and watched as Merlin walked over to Arthur and leaned in to kiss him. It was sweet. Arthur kissed Merlin back. They did this for some time before Arthur pulled Merlin down with him so they were on the sofa, and then they were off to the races, devouring each other’s tongues, faces, and necks.

“Bed, we need to move this to your bed,” Arthur said a few minutes later as he somehow managed to pull himself away from Merlin and stand.

Henry merely turned his attention to the other side of the small one-room flat and watched as the two men before him relocated to the bed and divested each other of their clothing. Merlin whispered something in Arthur’s ear and Arthur nodded. Henry was curious, but he didn’t have to wait long to find out what they had been talking about because once the two were naked they walked into the bathroom and were out of Henry’s view for quite some time.

When they returned to the room, Merlin settled himself on the bed and Arthur straddled him. Then he was probably kissing Merlin, although it was difficult for Henry to tell as he had a view of Arthur’s lovely arse as it moved up, down, and around. Sometime later Arthur sat up and rolled a condom onto his extremely thick cock, and slowly eased into Merlin.

By this time Henry was extraordinarily happy that he was a plant that could make no noise. Watching these boys buggering was hot as hell.

The sounds the two made whilst lovemaking were sensual and relatively restrained, but soon enough Merlin began making loud noises and calling out Arthur’s name. The bed squeaked as Arthur’s movements sped up and became erratic, and Arthur let out a loud moan. Merlin’s moan followed.

Ah, Henry would remember this for a long while. It was the stuff of dreams as he watched Arthur get out of the bed and go into the bathroom, returning with a flannel. He wiped Merlin clean before doing the same to himself. He then climbed into the bed, spooned himself against Merlin, and kissed his shoulder. 

Henry couldn’t recall ever seeing anything more beautiful. 

Merlin made a funny hand gesture and the lights went out (Henry had no idea how that had happened, but he guessed Merlin had one of those computer thingies that did things like that for you).

Henry thought the lights going out meant it was time for sleep, but he knew otherwise when he heard kissing and moaning. And there might have been some more unwrapping of a condom (humans had all the fun!). There was definitely a long sigh and a grunt. Someone’s breath hitched.

Henry gleefully settled in for round two. He certainly was enjoying this Merlin whump (Just what wump was, Henry couldn’t be sure, but Gwen had used it the other day and it seemed to fit, so...) and comforting Arthur.

If these two were meant to prevent a catastrophe beyond everyone’s wildest imagination, they were off to a good start.


End file.
